


March 21st, 2011

by kg1507



Category: Young Justice, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kg1507/pseuds/kg1507
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not that he pictured anyone really caring that much to go through all that trouble. It seemed like a lot of work for just one day, he told himself. Unnecessary. Maybe not for actual people, like the rest of his friends. Everyone had a birthday, because everyone had been born. Just not him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	March 21st, 2011

Birthdays have been a sore subject from the moment Conner learned the word. He doesn't really remember where he picked it up, but whether it was in passing or on tv or background conversation among his friends, he just remembers the painful blow that followed along with an excruciating dose of reality. He'd never been born - and so, he would never be able to experience the celebrations that came with the day of one's birth. No cake. No presents. No one to clap him on the back and express their joy on the day he came into existence.

Not that he pictured anyone really caring that much to go through all that trouble. He’d been with the team for about a month and he was still having trouble feeling like he belonged there. Who among them would want to throw him a party? He'd seen pictures in several books, all by chance mind you. It wasn’t like he had been actively _looking_ for them; the decorations and streamers, glitter and colors covering whole rooms - it seemed like a lot of work for just one day, he told himself. Unnecessary. Maybe not for actual people, like the rest of his friends. Everyone had a birthday, because everyone had been born.

Just not him.

It was M'gann who first brought the subject up. It was a cold night in January, not long after their confrontation with the Light and several months of dating under their belts, and Conner knew he had changed drastically since his Cadmus breakout. Socialization has been good for him, even if he still prefers quiet most of the time.

The two of them lay on the couch in the den deep inside Mt. Justice, and the silence that surrounds them is neither awkward nor suffocating. It’s tranquil, and when she suddenly asks the question it takes him by surprise, followed by a pang of despair he quickly tries to hide.

"I don't know - I guess I don't have one." He said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. He doesn’t want her to know that it bothers him. "Cadmus didn't really give me a birth certificate, you know?" He joked, chuckling for good measure, but the sound is hollow in his throat.

M'gann turned to look at his lopsided grin. "Of course you have one," She says, her tone assuring. "Everyone has a birthday."

"Yeah, everyone whose ever been _born_." Conner spits. Immediately he closes his eyes in regret, dropping his voice several levels. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean it to come out like that. I just... I don't like to think about it." He hates when he loses his temper at her. It seems like all he does is apologize, but she never takes it to heart and Conner honestly doesn't know how she is so patient, so kind, especially those times he least deserves it.

M'gann took his hand and pressed it to her cheek, her skin warm and soft. She traces circles with her thumb, and the motion calms him somewhat. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. But..." She bit her lip in hesitation, then continued. "But I don't think it's true that you were never born. I mean, yes, you weren't born in the traditional way - but there was a time when you didn't exist, and then you did, when your body wasn't yet a body," She placed her hand on his chest, her eyes meeting his, wide and full. "When your heart first started beating. That's when you were born."

He smiles sadly and it helps, these things she says. But it's not enough. He kisses her forehead in a tender gesture.

"Thank you," He murmurs. "But... I just... I don't think it's the same. Birthdays are for people with mothers and fathers, families... an actual day they can mark on a calender. They're for... they're for _people_. Not clones." He pulls her close so he doesn't have to see her face fall, and he feels her arms slowly snake around his neck as she lets out the tiniest of sighs.

"You are a person, Conner. I wish you could see that."

He hugs her back, closing his eyes as he buries his face deep in her auburn hair, wishing he could too.

* * *

  
Weeks pass and the conversation is forgotten. Missions come and go, training sessions with Superman make Conner stronger and more in control than ever before, and his relationship with M’gann grows every day. There are little bumps, which he’s come to learn is normal, but he hates them and does everything he can to be a good boyfriend and keep his temper in check, always afraid one wrong move will give her cause to end it. He has never told another living soul that the thought of losing her through his own fault haunts him like a constant shadow. But his anger is not nearly as constant as before and his patience grows simply by being near her. He likes who he is becoming, who she makes him want to be; and how he feels more human than clone when she’s by his side.

 

* * *

  
The mountain is unnaturally quiet today. He’s just come home from Smallville after a particularly long training session with Clark, and so far only Wolf has come to greet him. He rubs behind the giant dog’s ears and smiles as his tail tumps against the floor.

“Where is everybody?” Conner says softly, only receiving a soft whine in return. He isn’t worried about the base being empty of company; Batman has scheduled a team meeting later that evening, so the mountain will likely fill up as night approaches. A few hours of daylight still remain.

He makes his way to his bedroom, changing out of one dirty tshirt and into a freshly laundered one, and trading tan cargo pants for slate grey. His hair is a mess, but his stomach growls loudly and hunger takes precedence over hygiene. Wolf prances beside him as he makes his way to the kitchen, idly hoping some of M’gann’s lasagna somehow went unnoticed by Wally’s insatiable appetite, but not letting himself get too hopeful.

Conner Kent is very rarely taken by surprise, but when the kitchen door opens to him and the sound of at least a dozen loud voices pierce the mountain’s silence in a triumphant “SURPRISE!” he almost jumps clear out of his skin. Months of training to be able to jump into action at a moment’s notice have sharpened his senses, but this fright has the opposite effect. His enhanced hearing is dulled and everything sounds as if passing through a thick wad of cotton. His vision is unfocused as he tried to take everything in, colors bleeding into one another in a technicolor blur, and it takes a few blinks for him to recover somewhat. Everyone is laughing at the expression on his face, but Conner hardly hears them.

Streamers, at least a dozen colors, weave together in a rainbow that arcs across the two conjoined rooms and connect to every corner of every wall. Balloons hang from them, plump with air. All of the den’s furniture has disappeared and is replaced by one long table, covered in enough food and drinks to feed twice the amount of people in the room. And in the very center of the table sits a three-tier chocolate cake with red icing so bright he can make out the writing from several feet away, and his stomach flips. The cake reads: _“Happy 17th Birthday, Conner!”_

People are beginning to crowd around him, and he feels a sudden onset of claustrophobia as hands start touching him and someone pulls him in for a hug that he can’t seem to return. He takes a step back, trying to process seven voices at once and closing his eyes as his senses heighten.

And suddenly, Superman is there, and his presence is enough to cause everyone to take a step back. Conner feels his gentle hand on his shoulder and opens his eyes. “Conner?”

His head feels fuzzy. “What... What’s going on?” Conner asks. His eyes find Superman’s, and then begin to travel over each of the room’s occupants. “I don’t understand.”

Robin laughs. “What’s it look like? It’s a party.” He pauses. “For _you_.”

“Me?” It slowly begins to dawn on him, his clarity returning. “But I... I...” Everyone is smiling at him, chuckling, and this suddenly makes him angry.

“I don’t _have_ a birthday.” He insists. He looks to Superman for help, wanting him to explain it to them. He’s a clone. He was made in a tank in an underground lab by a couple of psychopaths. He was sparked into existence through machines and chemicals. He _didn’t have a birthday_.

“You do now.” A soft voice says. M’gann gently pushes through the crowd and stands nervously in front of him.

Conner’s mouth goes dry. Her hair is braided in an intricate design and drapes over her shoulder like red silk. She’s wearing a black dress, two tiny straps holding it up, revealing most of her neck and shoulders and dipping slightly where he has never dared to imagine. The dress ends at her knees and tiny black heels give her an extra two inches of height from her norm. His eyes wander back to that unholy dip and he recognizes a silver necklace he had given her months prior. He meets her eyes and finds he is speechless.

She threads her fingers together in front of her, clearly nervous. “Um,“I know, it’s a little... A little much,” She gestures around her at the decorations quickly before her hands meet again. “But once I started planning, it sort of... Well, I couldn’t really stop.” She smiled at him and bit her lip, letting it slide off her face to become serious. “I know you don’t think you deserve this, or feel entitled to it, because of how you came into the world.” She steps forward and slowly takes his hands in hers, and he realizes how cold they are, how her voice trembles.

“But it doesn’t matter to any of us how you came into the world, or who brought you here.” She says. “What matters is that you _were_. And we just want to celebrate that, because...” She squeezes his hands, her eyes shining as she gives him a tender smile. “Because we all love you. And we’re so, so happy that you’re here with us.”

The room is quiet for a moment, except for the soft thud of Artemis’s elbow jabbing into Wally’s side before he can complete his joking “Awwww.” But Conner doesn’t register it. He can hardly hear anything save for the erratic beating of M’gann’s heart just inches in front of him. His eyes travel the room and everyone is smiling at them, at _him_ , and he suddenly realizes how wrong he had been. He would never be able to change who he was or how he’d been made, but these people who found him, raised him, loved him, have now become his family. He realized now that that was what he’d really wanted, right from the start; someone to care that he’d taken his first breath, opened his eyes, and began to live.

Words are so far gone that he might as well be back at Cadmus learning the alphabet, but somehow he manages to regain some of his vocabulary.

“I don’t deserve this.” He says gruffly. M’gann’s face falls for a milisecond before Conner closes the distance between them and kisses her, his large hands coming to hold her face as hers freeze in midair. He has never been one for public displays of affection, preferring to keep things private, but right now he doesn’t care. He’s too happy. He pulls away and tips her chin back to look at him. “Because I don’t deserve you.” He lowers his voice considerably, so only she can hear his next words.

“I love you, so much.” Her cheeks turn crimson and he can feel the heat radiating between the centimeters of empty space. He looks up at the rest of them. “Thank you - all of you.”

“Not to break up the sentimentality, but... Can we please start on that cake already? You have no idea how long I’ve been staring at that thing.” Wally whines, and Artemis punches him in the shoulder.

"Oh my _god_ , Wally..." She mutters under her breath.

Conner chuckles and nods, and everyone cheers at the prospect of digging in and turn to start filling plates. Conner and M’gann hang back for a moment, her face still beet red from the unexpected kiss.

“I gotta ask though,” Conner begins, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Why today?”

M’gann shrugs, absentmindedly smoothing the folds of his tshirt, his chest toned and tight beneath her tiny fingers. “I don’t know. I spent a lot of time thinking about it, actually. At first I was going to pick the day you broke out of Cadmus, but that didn’t seem right somehow. I think you should have a day that doesn’t coincide with any other major events in your life. That way it’ll make it even more special.” She pauses. “March 21st just sort of... came to me.” She looked worried for a moment. “I hope that’s ok. If you want, you can pick it out yourself. I just thought-”

“It’s perfect.” Conner interrupts, placing a finger over her lips. “You picked my name, and I liked that. March 21st. My... birthday,” He tests the word on his tongue, and smiles. “Yeah, I like that too.”

M’gann giggles, and she hesitates before looking up at him with glazed eyes, the corners of her mouth tipping up as she bites her lower lip, sending a chill down his spine. “Well, since you seem to like all the things I give you,” She stands on her toes, reaching the shell of his ear and whispering quietly. “You’ll love what I’m gonna give you later.”

Conner swallows, his pulse quickening. He can hear M’gann’s voice tremble and her own heart pounding heavily, her skin so close to his touch. He clears his throat.

“You mean, like, a birthday present?” He croaks.

M’gann smiles, nodding slowly. She hooks her thumb through one of his belt buckles, hidden from the rest of the room by her turned back and too occupied by food to notice their absence anyway. She pulls him against her and Conner is shocked by her boldness, heat crawling down his back and making the air thick around them.

“Yeah,” She whispers. “Tonight. After.” She grins at his face and pulls him towards the party. “But first, cake.”

He sits down as everyone starts to sing, still a little dazed. And when he goes to blow out the candles, he realizes he forgot to make a wish. But as applause fills the room and cut pieces of cake begin to circulate, he smiles to himself. Today, he got what he wished for.

Besides, he has a whole year to think up a new one.


End file.
